She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. “No, don’t interrupt me. Well, this is OUR thing. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. Here we are. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. This spot, which still retains its name, acquired the appellation from an old crone who lived there, and who, in addition to a very equivocal character for honesty, enjoyed the reputation of being a witch. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused.
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