He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. I waited for them to get right out of the grounds. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round.
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