. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. "That would be certain destruction. 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. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. "I'm dumb. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. "I was born in the South Seas and I am on my way to America, to an aunt. Very soon she would be able to forget it. " "Let them attempt it, if they dare!" cried Mrs. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil.
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