The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “It is, if anything, a little above the average,” Brendon admitted. "You frighten the cull out of his senses. I doubt if you will receive anything for your trouble. "Has no man ever kissed you?" "No. ” “I know—” said Ramage, with sympathy.
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