“I expected you this morning,” he said. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. 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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