"There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. "I was not aware it was in danger," rejoined Darrell. "He's here. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. It’s on the horse. Between her and the fair, far prospect of freedom and self-development manoeuvred Mr. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times.
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