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 held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. ‘That’s not much comfort. " Thus urged, Jack reluctantly departed. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene.
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