" "Thought so. “None, I thank you,” he answered. It began as a joke. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. 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. "It is an ordinary wedding," he added; "some shopkeeper's daughter. Giles's bowl, "as his last refreshment on earth. But I’m thinking as how I’d best report to the major over this here shooting. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers.
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