Voilà tout. “Yes. The Ragged Edge. 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. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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