She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. Never did I need a rescue so much. I think we will soon, though. ” “Yes,” she said, and abruptly she liked him enormously. He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. 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.
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