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He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. 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. The deafening report froze time. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why.
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