"He sails to-morrow morning in the very vessel by which I start," replied Jack. ‘Now let’s have it. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. Finally she fell into reflection. ‘En tout cas, it is not up at all, but down. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. She trembled; but she did not know why. Don't lay it all to the boy. The lad looked alarmed. “Annabel, I begin to see why you are here. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. ” She laughed.
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