I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years.
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