’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. \"What's that?\" Lucy asked. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. 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. No, I thank you. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. ’ She bit her lip, frowning. If one wants a thing very much, perhaps one is inclined to think one can’t have it.
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