It was locked. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. “But it is so difficult——” “Not at all,” he answered eagerly. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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