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 shall be able to stretch my limbs presently—ha! ha!" "Hush!" cried Kneebone, "I hear a noise without. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down.
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