’ Hilary exploded. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. 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.
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