"No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Quite ordinary. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do. 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.
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