Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. 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. ‘I do not know. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. ” Anna shivered a little. ” Lucy would always press her face into her mother’s skirts when she heard the ending, no matter how many times she heard it. “Believe me, I know. Kneebone.
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