"It is too late. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. ‘If you imagine you’re going to use one ungentlemanly act to manipulate me, you very much mistake the matter.
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