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Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. Imitating the example of Mr. 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 a bi-secting street came shouting and music.
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