He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ” “Wait? For what?” She replied. He dared not go on. It was not quite the search I intended,’ he said with a touch of selfmockery as he released her, ‘but success comes in all sorts of unexpected ways.
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