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. "I do," replied Thames, in the same tone; "we haven't a moment to lose. "He stands before you," rejoined her son.
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