He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. 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. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end.
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