Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. I offered him a hundred to watch Spurlock. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. ’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ Gerald agreed. It is so ridiculous.
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