And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. She tipped his mouth towards her own and kissed him. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. "After all our pains we were near losing him, Sir Rowland. “But I have forbidden it!” he said, raising his voice.
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