“I wouldn’t. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. But I am here. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all.
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