" "Zounds!" exclaimed Wood; "it's my old master-key. The Matriarchate! The Lords of Creation just ran about and did what they were told. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. I would have heard her. 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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