Spurling. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church. Come and have lunch with me. "Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them. "Harkye, Sir," rejoined Darrell; "one word before I move. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. I promise not to do it again. " ***** "To me, you dirty blackguard!" cried Spurlock, flinging aside his helmet.
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