During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. “I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me. I came back to say, that I've placed your nephew in a coach; and, if you'll be at my lock in the Old Bailey an hour after midnight, you shall hear the last tidings of him. 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.
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