From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. I do like to see old friends back here. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time.
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