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. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. ‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide.
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