“Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. He saw that she was tense. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. “Do you know why they are estranged?” Lucy asked. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered.
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