Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild.
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