The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. “I have given her two days’ holiday,” Anna answered. The chapel was situated in the old ballroom, and from there, down a few stairs, the vestry had taken the place of the pantry next to the kitchens. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. I'll tell you something. 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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