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All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. 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. Our land brings us in nothing. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. \" He took his milk and cookies to bed.
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