"I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. 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 was coming to give you intelligence of a comical trick played by this rascal, when I find him here—the last place, I own, where I should have expected to find him.
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