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. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. "If any one's to blame, it's me. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. "He does seem a very extraordinary person.
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