"Very well," said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, "very well. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. Move. 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 replied lightly and stepped towards her. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked.
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