" IV. 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. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. We’re different.
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