It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. We shall take an eternal farewell of each other. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. 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. Let me see now. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair.
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