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. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him.
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