Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. She'll be mighty interesting to watch. “Tut, tut!” he said. 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.
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