Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. She seemed honestly glad to see him. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. I don’t think you understand.
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