From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. So proas loaded with nuts were always landing on the beach. That old world that had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it. I think that I will tell you. 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. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone.
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