She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. 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 was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. Well, kill me. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. Fear nothing.
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