” She sniffled. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. He doesn't resemble you at all. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road.
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