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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. So I made haste and recovered. ‘I must. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. “You look great, Lucy. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. I don’t know. " "Impossible," replied Sheppard, in the same tone.
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