\" \"Oh, come on!\" Shari exclaimed, putting her cocoa down and burying her face in a fat white pillow. "Hear! hear!" vociferated Quilt. This isn’t the place. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire.
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