All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. Annabel was in hiding all the time. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. All right really.
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