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. Come and help me pack. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. She was, she guessed, close to the library.
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