"How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. " "This comes of fine feelings!" muttered Jonathan, contemptuously. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. That there gatekeeper would’ve called them out again. She wanted to know. 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.
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