He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. “Which is Mr. ‘Ah, grandpére. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. . "A good idea!" exclaimed the carpenter.
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