See paragraph 1. “Not much. ‘I am entirely English. 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. McClintock. ‘It is necessary that one is at all times ready to protect oneself,’ explained the young lady flatly. “We’re going to be found out someday. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall.
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