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Enter JOHN MANNERS, looking cautiously about him.
MANNERS. Beshrew the knave! What hath become of him? Can they have laid him by the heels? or may it be, love hath outpaced his messenger? Ne'er have I ventured quite so close before. I greet thee, Haddon! whose historic gates, open to all the world, close only against me. And yet I love thee, Haddon, every tree and stone; for thou art part of her and she is part of thee. I tread the grass her feet have trod to-day; the blooms that smiled upon her, smile on me; and in the scented breeze, I seem to feel her breath upon my cheek!
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