He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. “Let me know the truth. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. Immediately Spurlock began to chant one of these. “Please hurry. Kneebone!" "That you would not accept him were he to offer—" "Be silent, Sir.
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