He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. "Mrs. “Splendid it must be to be a composer. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. ’ ‘Leonardo again,’ Gerald muttered and, to her disappointment, dropped her hand. ‘You keep a-hold of him,’ Trodger ordered his men.
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