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After awhile a whipporwill which haunted the churchyard elms drew gradually nearer, finally settling upon a deodar cedar in the flower garden, whence it poured forth its lonely miserere wail. Mr. Hargrove sat so still, that Regina hoped he had fallen asleep, but very soon he said: "My dear, you need not fan me." "I hoped you were sleeping, and that a nap would refresh you."
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