CHAPTER XIII. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. It's right Nantz. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station. Mr. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. " And her faithful attendant, drowned in tears, withdrew, followed by the two assistants. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull.
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