To-morrow they will know the truth. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. "'Tis a cruel thing you've done, lad. 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. I want to put myself into your hands.
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