Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. "You are my prisoner, Jack. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. Some day older people, perhaps, will trouble to understand younger people, and there won’t be these fierce disruptions; there won’t be barriers one must defy or perish. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. “I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these conditions. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon.
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