Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. 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. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. " The Wastrel laughed.
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