“What the hell is going on here, Officer?” He grumbled. 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. The note-passer lagged behind with her. To tell Ruth anything, it would be necessary to tell her everything; and I cannot and you must not. I took the money myself, and ought to know. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head.
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