"Well, good night, Mr. It isn’t. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. . " The doctor was forced to admit the truth of this. The gong will go at seven-thirty. 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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