He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. His father and mother are gone now. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. Melusine’s eyes blazed into his.
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