"You're only twenty—not legally of age. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. ” Lucy said, frowning. “Forgive me,” he said. 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.
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