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. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. "No," replied Jonathan, moodily. Sheppard uttered a piercing scream. Like the flaws of an old marble. " "And have my escapes really made so much noise as to reach the ear of royalty?" mused Jack.
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