"Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it isβ" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. β His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. β She said.
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