Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. "But I tell you frankly, and Mr. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
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