CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store for you. She laughed a little contemptuously. 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. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in.
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