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. "Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. He could think about it later. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name.
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