” Brendon hesitated for a moment. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. "I've been deceived by false information. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance.
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