Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. He knew she would be there, practicing alone in 118. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob.
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