Some of them are now buried at the bottom of the Thames. It must be the dawn creeping in. 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. 156 He followed, “Um, is it okay if we talk in private for a few minutes somewhere?” Cathy was quick to reply.
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