The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. 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. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. She answered slowly.
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