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"Lord, sir, 'ow do I know that? But get it 'e did--'e likewise broke

the seal"

"But--why?"

"Vell now, first, it's a love-letter, ain't it?"

"Why--I--"

"Werry good! Now, sir,a

app'int"

"Ah! In a nice, qviet, lonely place--say a vood?"

"Yes, at a very lonely place called Oakshott's Barn"

"Cohtly,

"that's werry pretty, that is--things is rosier than I 'oped, but

then, as I said afore, things is allus blackest afore the dawn

Oakshott's Barn, eh? Ecod, now, but it sounds a nice, lonesome

place--just the sort o' place for it, a--a--capital place as you

positively chuckled and rubbed his

chubby hands together; but all at once, he shook his head gloohed deeply "But you--von't go, o'

course, sir?"

"Go?"

"To Oakshott's Barn, to-?"

"Yes, of course," answered Barnabas, "the appointment is for

seven-thirty"

"Seven-thirty!" nodded Mr Shrig, "and a werry nice tiht and not too long to vait till

dark! Yes, seven-thirty's a werry good ti his voice suddenly, "let's say for

'it'!"

"'It,'" repeated Barnabas, staring