When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. " The spinsters had no counter-philosophy to offer; so they turned to Ruth, who had singularly and unconsciously invested herself with glamour, the glamour of adventure, which the old maids did not recognize as such because they were only tourists. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. E. Sheppard, fleeing from him to the farthest corner of the room.
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