” Courtlaw crossed the room and threw open the door. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or the tube. 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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