Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. “You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place.
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