” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "Ah! but," said I, "there's a great deal in being hanged. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures.
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