His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. Good night. Gosse had hidden himself successfully then.
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