“It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. ‘She wants me to marry her. I'd go for it. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. " "Where's Mr. " The girl smiled and began to munch a sandwich. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. " "Swear it!" "I do. . 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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