" "Back!" cried Rowland. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. It was hard to meet that gaze. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own.
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