His arm about the trunk of a tree, he laughed softly, as his eyes, sweeping the checker-board of autumn's glories, rested at last on the grove of coniferous trees. So that was the haunted grove? That dark, silent, spicy bit of isolated loneliness far below was the spot he had so feared! But he feared it no longer. She had cured him of that. She had said that fear of the supernatural was foolish; and of course she was right.
chicken wrap recipe indian, They passed on, and then from the sable-hued cedars bordering the orchard four small figures stole and moved softly away.
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chicken wrap recipe indian "He says, if you don't mind, to come about ten or 'leven o'clock," said Billy..
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