“I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. 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. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road.
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