Well, this is OUR thing. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore.
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