The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. ” She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her was a thing very much to be desired. " "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him.
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