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" "I have. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. So he found her when he came round the corner of the spinney. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil.
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