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. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. I don't have a phone in my room. ” She eyed him scornfully. I could not have spoken to her.
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