On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. "Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. Probably she was married years ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house. Kneebone took his leave. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. ‘I live in Kent.
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