His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. ’ Reminiscence made him smile. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons. What he wanted desperately was to be alone.
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