Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. 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. “Then—then we can talk things out. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times.
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