“I am so sorry. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. The longing to talk to someone! But in the end she had gone to her room without giving in to the craving. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. She licked his neck, which put him over the top. A sob was strangled in her throat. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself.
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