“You seem to forget that my sister is—married. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. 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. Through no fault of her own. They pressed more insistently, forcing her lips open.
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