"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. " "My father was of the blood-royal of France," exclaimed Thames. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river.
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