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 took over, doing his best to rearrange his overly sensitive member back into his pants. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. \"Awww, sounds like puppy love to me. "And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs.
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