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. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. What right had she to call herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. ’ She bestowed a dazzling smile on Roding, who had reddened to the gills at these words. ” Lucy reflected. ” “You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him.
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