\"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. Accordingly, he proceeded to a gate which stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with the leads. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. He could not permit her to remain in that position. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard.
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