Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack. 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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