When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. Something draws everybody. “I regret that you should ever have proposed it,” he went on. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. The last few months had not dealt kindly with Mr. . He had something across his knees. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole.
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