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. Detention was merry for the other detainees. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. Every window in the public house was filled with guests; and, as in the case of St. Stanley,’ I said.
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