Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. 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. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo.
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