She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. “But perhaps I want to confess them. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church.
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