Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. 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. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. “I shall never be able to thank you. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone.
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