The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. “Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. In Hamilton Place that is, like I told you before, miss. 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.
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