“There wasn’t. But to choose this of all moments. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river.
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