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\" \"No, but can you carry my lunch bag? Where is yours?\" Michelle asked. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin. 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. Sir John saw it, and was flattered.
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