Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Wood,—"he'll never mend. After all, this could never be the black sheep. . “It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. 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. "Hush!" she said. Then she looked up at Brendon. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable.
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