But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. . There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. Ray did not pace, he just stood. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration.
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