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. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. Do you know this, Sir?" he added, taking a key from his pocket. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses.
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