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. “Experte credo. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. " "You're a damn fool, too!" exploded the trader. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence.
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