If only we are not divided. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. 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’m glad 237 you came over.
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