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. "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. She repeated this breathlessly. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge.
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