“Well, well, Martin. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. It was better even than the hymn-singing. “But who could have lent you money?” “I pawned my pearl necklace. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation.
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