" She opened the book which she had brought to the table. He had no ideas about daughters. You cannot depart hence. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. There isn’t. 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.
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