Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. ” “To bad rubbish. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train.
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