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. “My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much. "You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. I have an appetite which I dare not increase. "Not I," replied Blueskin.
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