The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. So, by way of gaining time, he resolved to question him further.
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