I'll forgive him if he does. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. He recognized the face instantly. You are you.
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