He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. Either that or some other person also obtained admission here and shot him, and that person is either still upon the premises or escaped without your notice. Unless they remind him now and then not to. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. " She showed him the locket; and he studied the face. . . She let out a wail.
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