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. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. When he faced Spurlock, the granite was cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human eyes. "The plot's out!" cried Jack. “I wonder why I am always hungry nowadays.
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