The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. 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. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. ” He replied. I had no curiosity of that kind.
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