\"High Five, Lucy!\" Michelle exclaimed. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. Gerald, meanwhile, was off hunting up these lawyers, together with your son, ma’am—’ turning to Mrs Sindlesham ‘—and you know the outcome of that. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English.
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