I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. A little kindness would not bring the world tumbling about her ears. No! I do not even know that he cares for me. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
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