"Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. "Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. She changed her mind that day, as her mother Marina had predicted. 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.
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