He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. " "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. He's on the ragged edge. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. 13 Montague Street. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. He looked at his friend.
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