She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. “Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. “You see the pointer?” he asked. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. Jackson, to the swig.
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