. ‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off. Mischief bubbled up in her. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. “Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. I can't invent; the thing won't come.
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