The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. Everybody seemed greatly concerned about the sincerity of Tolstoy. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right.
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