‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. She held out her hand frankly. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. "He must have gone this way," muttered Blueskin.
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