“I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. The boy was right. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears.
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