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. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. But I will never—never return. Nothing has been touched since.
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