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. “It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. She did not have the power of men. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. "Nothing more than to obtain a favourable answer to my suit," replied Kneebone.
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