“How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. " "All right, then. 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. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is.
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