Gerald stayed him. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. 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. They could not go on. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew.
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