" "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches. ’ ‘Aye, miss,’ Kimble agreed, taking the garments, ‘but where will I find you?’ ‘I do not know. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable.
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