Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. "What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed, applying to his snuff-box, "that Thames Darrell, whom we all supposed dead,"—Kneebone in his heart sincerely wished he had been so,—"should turn out to be alive after all.
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