\"Borrowed a pencil. This door, which was open, Jonathan locked and took out the key. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. Gosse sneered. 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. But the love of life prevailed over his fears.
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