He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or the tube. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. 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. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars.
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