May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON. He looked distant, irritated. Every minute I spend here is an education to me. 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. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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