She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. Dollis Hill revisited. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. Capes most trying. "There is Dollis Hill," said the man, pointing to a well-wooded eminence about a mile distant, "and there," he added, indicating the roof of a house just visible above a grove of trees "is Mr. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. She knew, too, she must not hesitate.
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