Wilson lit his pipe and with arms folded on the top rail of the barnyard fence gazed down across the partially-cleared, fire-dotted sweep to where, a mile distant, a long, densely timbered point of land stood darkly silhouetted against the sheen of a rising moon.,
Sir William started back in his chair, crying faintly: "My God! Look at her, Acton!",
"That won't hurt him; he's always tired anyway," rejoined Billy. "But we'd best go.".
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