Do you hear me, Sir? Won't you stir!" "Not a step," replied Langley, gruffly. 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. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. It ought never to have begun. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. His face was downcast.
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