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. I wouldn't keep an apprentice to set my authority at defiance. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters.
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