And the hunter home from the hill. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate.
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