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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. Wood; "and pray, don't bring anybody with you,—especially Jonathan Wild. ” There was a moment’s silence. At least I rather hoped I might spend my time chasing smugglers, which would have afforded some excitement.
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