He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales.
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