If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. ” John peered at her as she went to him. “I have given her two days’ holiday,” Anna answered. 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. Mr. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. Wood uttered something like an imprecation.
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