Jonathan threw open the street-door. “I don’t know why. How the devil did you break a picture?’ ‘Don’t be obtuse, Hilary. 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. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction. Day after day for a measured hour in the lecture-theatre, with elaborate power and patience, Russell pieced together difficulty and suggestion, instance and counter-instance, in the elaborate construction of the family tree of life. Behind every one of these myriad fronts she passed there must be a career or careers.
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