The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. ‘Not if I heard him aright. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. "He lives at Dollis Hill, a beautiful spot near Willesden, about four or five miles from town, where he has taken a farm.
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