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. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. He guided himself between her legs. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. John’s demeanor shifted.
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