" "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. E. \" She opened the front door with her keys, stepping inside. 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. John introduced the tall boy. Then the incredible happened. ‘Étes-vous Francais?’ Her eyes, he noted, followed from himself to Hilary and back again, but she did not speak. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side.
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