The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. But when it came to broaching them, it proved to be much more difficult than she had supposed. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. ” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley.
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