‘I’m following a scent. Hearl on HounslowHeath. Gosse sneered. An enormous poster almost covered one side of the wall—the poster. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. Katy oozed money from every pore of her being. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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