Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. Now, do what you please. 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. " "Never," echoed Smith, emphatically, "upon my honour.
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