“I am a fool,” he said. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. ” “Kitty is wonderful,” said another. 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. Jack was completely overcome. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. Shari was snoring soundly.
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