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| | The Freelands - Chapter XII (Site not responding. Last check: 2007-10-14) |
 | | Their lips were set, as though they had spoken the last word before battle, and an old cock pheasant, running into the bushes close by, rose with a whir and skimmed out toward his covert, scared, perhaps, by something uncompromising in the footsteps of those two. |
 | | Gerald Malloring--an excellent fellow, as could be seen from his face of strictly Norman architecture, with blue stained-glass windows rather deep set in--had only one defect: he was not a poet. |
 | | It was very pleasant, standing with Gerald, looking at what they had planned together; there was a soothing sense of reality about that visit, after the morning's happening, with its disappointment, its reminder of immorality and discontent, and of folk ungrateful for what was done for their good. |
| worldwideschool.org /library/books/lit/drama/TheFreelands/chap13.html (2380 words) |
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