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. He will be here in a moment or so, and you will then learn his determination. . His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. The night was now profoundly dark. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin.
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