He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. “I wish he had,” she said. “So what is John up to today?” Lucy asked with a weary smile. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. Jack instantly started to his feet, and the man, alarmed at his appearance, ran off to a neighbouring house.
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