Then blackness. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. She changed her mind that day, as her mother Marina had predicted. . He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. 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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