’ “Crude, I admit. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. . 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. ” “Not yet,” he said.
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