I struck him across the face, jumped out and went back by train to Paris. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. I wonder. By the side of her plate was a small key. 6.
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