” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. Rich folks, once. Your aunt liked the pheasant. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. Quite ordinary. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. He knew what he knew. 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. "It is the last," continued the knight, sternly; "and I trust we may never meet again, I have paid you this large sum—not because you are entitled to it, for you have failed in what you undertook to do, but because I desire to be troubled with you no further. "You won't listen to this nonsense, Sir Rowland!" "If you are innocent, boy," said the knight, controlling his emotion; "you have nothing to apprehend. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto.
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