His last actions were futile. ’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. 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.
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