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. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand.
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