But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. But one must disguise oneself. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. Maggot, who promptly interposed her cudgel.
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