By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. Then the girl was heading past the inn and Roding marched down to confront her. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked.
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