" "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him. Eight per cent. He claimed me for his wife, and showed to every one a marriage certificate. 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. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter.
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