The gallows has groaned for him for years. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. 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. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. He was into the passage in time to see her slip into another chamber at the end.
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