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Chapter 34

The fields are hoary with December's frost.

I too am hoary with the chills of age.

But through the fields and through the untrodden woods

Is rest and stillness - only in my heart

The pall of winter shrouds a throbbing life.

A WEEK after that Treby Riot, Harold Transome was at Transome Court. He had returned from a hasty visit to town

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