There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, but I sha'n't ask them. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. “I did not,” Anna answered. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. “Who can tell?” she said.
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