ag another<br >ailding, and<br >here a large<br >n either side<br >triver drove<br >rtyard, and<br > Yaroslavs-<br >Popov was<br >a couple of<br >~ance to the<br >vas dragged<br >cks.<br >:ed gray, its<br >r what was<br >ld the other<br >o nowhere.<br >)nce on the<br > ever. Its<br >les to the<br > called the<br >hat was a<br >:. No one<br >it he was a<br >:ish empire<br >"God help<br >ONE<br > It was late on a very cold fall afternoon, and the<br >weather all across southern England was absolutely<br >terrible. A desultory rain had fallen most of the week<br >from a leaden, gloomy sky, and only this afternoon<br >(a Wednesday) had the rain let up, although the<br >temperature had dropped sharply.<br > Sir Roger Hume, member of parliament, a ramrod<br >straight old gentleman, with a thick shock of silver<br >hair, a hawk-like nose, and jutting angular chin, and<br >wide, very deep blue penetrating eyes, stood at the<br >edge of the south paddock of his estate watching his<br >daughter Sylvia work Princess Belle, the new two<br >year old, through her obedience paces. A slight<br >nudge of the heel on the right flank produced a left<br >sidestep. A counter nudge from the left heel,<br >produced a halt, and a continued nudge, a move-<br >ment to the right.<br > Sir Roger, was a proud man, and from where he<br >11<br ><br >
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