” Her hand fell back into her lap. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. “It’s precious unromantic. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. 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. I’ve never had these crying fits before.
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