[Y]ou might climb the Law, where the whale's jawbone stood landmark in the buzzing wind, and behold the face of many counties, and the smoke and spires of many towns, and the sails of distant ships.
A Closset is the halfe of the Barre, and tenne of them maie be borne in one fielde.
Workmen, breaking up an old floor, have come to him, mattocks in their hands, dismayed: ‘Mr Richard, see what we have turned up ...’
She was not a giggler, despite her extreme youth, and she smiled the small slow smile that men brought to her face without knowing why.
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