“Nothing so base. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. To settle things, you know. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can.
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