Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. “Well, what is it?” “Montague Hill is recovering consciousness,” he said. Alderman Dunstable, of the Borough Council of Marylebone. If you want me, you know where to find me. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children.
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