The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. I asked him—to take me away. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. " "And so will I," said Austin.
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