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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. But he wrote on. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. "I'll call you when you're wanted.
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