Miss Miniver learned of her flight and got her address from the Widgetts. Michelle laughed, saying that she could only guess. 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. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter.
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