The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. Before that came your father didn’t even know you were gone. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse.
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