The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. . Vite, I pray you. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. . “I wonder—I wonder if we shall ever get like that. I can’t imagine what possessed you, Veronica.
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