The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear.
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