“Beats me. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. " "You are very kind, Sir," returned the widow, "but I require no support. 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. " Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. “Why don’t they wait?” he added.
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