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And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. She spotted her opportunity. 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. The Denunciation VI. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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