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. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. Returning in moments, Mr. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. It’s Providence. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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