“Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. He was staring at her, openly gaping. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind.
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