She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. Kneebone will excuse you. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied.
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