I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. ” “Much better,” she agreed. 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. It has been a marvellous day—and I am going to England.
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