He backed away from her. 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. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. “Look after her! Why not? But you have done it all your life. Then to the Dean's Head, in St. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. .
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