I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. “I’ve gotta go. Be on your guard. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon.
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