His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil.
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