He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. Take the one that struck him at this moment. ” “Two years ago,” she answered. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other.
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