" She rose. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. 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 think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence.
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