Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. “Yes. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger.
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