. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. In lieu of it, he still adhered to the sleek black crop, which, throughout life, formed a distinguishing feature in his appearance. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him.
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