" CHAPTER XI. 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. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. If you can do any good with him, it's more than we can. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. Now, more and more, we’re going to be interested in them, to be curious about them and—quite mildly-experimental with them. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. She isn't used to cities. I ate only enough to keep body and soul together.
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