"Let us fly from this frightful place. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. F. There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words.
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