The touch of her hands was pleasurable. 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. \"Sorry. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. The arrival of la tante Prudence late next day had changed all this, it is true. ‘Gérard, you are a great fool.
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