I should have gotten out of here months ago!” She opened the passenger side and reclined in the bucket seat. “The ones Cariolus did for me. 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 only the women matter.
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