She thought Alice a bit of a sneak, an opinion her brothers shared, and Gwen rather a snatch at meals. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. 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.
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