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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. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. That is not reasonable. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table.
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