” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. I MUST. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. “You are the most perfect, the most glorious of created things—tender, frank intellectual, brave, beautiful. I have said that I am but a nun now. “I always shall. . ” She said, and ducked back into her room. 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.
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