But at least it gave her more time. 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. “I feared we might have a fog. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure.
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