Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. She could not see clearly. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. 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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