‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory.
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