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 lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. Stanley poured wine. "Anything that concerns Ruth is of interest to me. “I have scarcely left his side.
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