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. ’ Gerald smiled. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. My business is with Lady Trafford. “I do love you. Let me recommend a glass of wine. Smith, he'll swing after next Old Bailey sessions.
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