“Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. 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. But for him she might have been alive and happy.
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