Secretly she was gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on a steady course. 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. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. She’s already spoken for. There was no one else in the doorway. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror.
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