But he only went home again to Paddington. I rarely set foot in London these days. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. ‘Until today. I hated the stuff. “Okay. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable.
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