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‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. 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. I'll see. ’ ‘Do not say so. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. It is difficult to express these things. The thought of beauty became an obsession. ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge. Stanley, consenting with dignity.
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