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. She was alone with a deadly enemy. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. She brought the unconscious man down. “My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life.
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