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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. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. \"Do you want a snack?\" \"No thanks. Wood, furiously. By the time he had reached St. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. “Here is my card. .
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