"Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. ’ Her eyes narrowed.
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