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. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. Eating him while he was at the end of a heroin binge left her sleepy and dazed.
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