He brightened as she took off her hood. Imbecile. ‘I thank you. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. But she made no answer. On the appearance of the thief-taker, Mrs.
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