One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. 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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