β Her mind went back to that treaty. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,β as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,βhe soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Wood, in indignant surprise.
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