" Not many days after this event, on a bright October morning, the bells rang a merry peal from the old gray tower of Willesden church. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. You will have to tell me. ‘Help yourself, Hilary.
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