"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. Wood, and however he might dissent from the latter proposition, he did not deem it expedient to make any reply; and the orator proceeded with his harangue amid the general applause of the assemblage. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. 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. ’ ‘Believe me, she wouldn’t have cared. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. ’ Then she jammed her hat on her head all anyhow and ran from the room.
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