But, it can't be helped. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be.
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