"Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, I arrest you in the name of the King. “Stop!” He ran towards her. He was tall, slender, and suave. 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. ’ ‘Very true.
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