"Perhaps that would have been best. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this. ” He laughed. ” “May I be prepared?” Anna asked. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. Wood, softening her asperity. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. .
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