She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. “Let me see,” he said. This made the eleventh. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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