‘Ask him. ” Sir John smiled. 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. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me.
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