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. ” She shook her head. \"I’ve never been to any of Lincoln’s dances. “You need not be alarmed,” he said. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy.
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