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Updated: July 20, 2025
I remember that I thanked "whatever gods there be," that one could live so richly in the enjoyment of these things. Farmer Bates met me at Great Hittenden Station. His was the only available horse and cart at Pym, for the Berridges were in a very small way, and it is doubtful if they could have made both ends meet if Mrs. Berridge had not done so well by letting her two spare rooms.
The train drew up in Great Hittenden station. The woman gathered her priceless possession carefully into her arms, and the rubicund man adroitly opened the door for her. "Good day, sir," she said, as she got out.
With the revival of my old interests, revived also my curiosity as to Ginger Stott, and one Sunday in late September I decided to go down to Pym. It was a perfect day, and I thoroughly enjoyed my four-mile walk from Great Hittenden Station. Pym is a tiny hamlet made up of three farms and a dozen scattered cottages.
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