’ Pottiswick sucked at his teeth through the gaps. "I know you'll not deceive me. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. " "None whatever," replied the mob. Montressor’s guests. 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.
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