Again returning to the main road, he passed through Clapton; and turning off on the left, arrived at the foot of Stamford Hill. " Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. Maggot had disappeared. 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. Don’t take my word for it though. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. Turning now, and running down the terrace. He looked no longer at his wife.
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