The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “You’ve grown out of them. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. It was free of leering men, unthinkable punishments, and human evil. Are you my accuser?" "I am," replied Wild; "have you anything to allege to the contrary?" "Only this," returned Thames: "that the charge is false, and malicious, and that you know it to be so.
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