The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. "You have killed him," cried Winifred in alarm.
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