” Anna tried to look angry, but her mouth betrayed her. 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. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. ” Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat.
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