“I have not left this apartment myself. Are you satisfied?’ Grudgingly, Jack Kimble took back the coins. “I do not think so. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. “Quite on my own,” she said.
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