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. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again.
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