A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. It was not a hopeful looking group. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up.
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