“Don’t be a hypocrite. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person.
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