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The house, or at least the front of it, was built after a design by Inigo Jones. The pediment was perforated by a circular window glazed with a casement whose frame resembled the spokes of a ship's wheel. A variety of antique symbolism resembling the hideous sculptures which sometimes close the chapters in books of the seventeenth century, under-ran the eaves. The tall, narrow windows gleamed blackly amidst the skeletons of the winter, or the coloured embroidery of the[Pg 3] summer creepers. The hall door was noble and hospitable in expanse. A carriage drive swept from it on either hand the oval lawn to a handsome gate whose supports were crowned by the arms of the Actons on the one hand and the arms of a family into which one of the Actons had married on the other hand. The sick man sank lower in his chair, his face working, his heart crying the same pleading cry as cried the heart of Rachel of old for her children—a cry understood only by the heart in which it was born—and God. "Oh, you'll find that out soon enough," promised Anson. "He told me to tell you that he would do the same thing to you first chance he got.".

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"No, I thank you, sir. I am to dine to-day with Mr Perry. I have long promised to eat a cut of cold meat with him. His cider is the best I know. His cider alone makes him worth dining with." "Oh, sir, I had never thought you a villain!" This was proof conclusive that Miss Acton had not. "'Why,' I says, 'there he is now.' Hinter had jest climbed the opposite fence an' stepped into the road. Mr. Maddoc slid down an' went right up to him. Hinter's face turned white when he saw Mr. Maddoc. He couldn't speak fer a minute, an' then all he did was mumble somethin'..