This door, which was open, Jonathan locked and took out the key. “So how about this Friday?” He asked. “I’ve gotta go. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen.
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