Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. "I will swear it upon the cross!" "His name, then?" demanded the knight. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck.
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