The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view.
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