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. ‘This is not a place for a man. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please. “She told you that?” “Yes. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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