’” Anna made no remark. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. “What did it matter?” she cried. '—'They can't,' says I. "He knows he had to take it.
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