” “There was no need for such heroism,” Annabel said coldly. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. 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 always thought Mrs.
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