She remembered Taber's hat. I told him instantly and shamelessly that the play was going to be worth ten thousand pounds. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. But to confess about Gerald— no, a thousand times.
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