I have come to take you home; and hereafter my word will be the law. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. I’ll get in trouble. 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. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest.
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