Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands. 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. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. ” Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance.
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