\"Is there something desperately wrong with your house?\" \"There is nothing wrong with our house. There is a tragedy to come. All they left it was the moon and stars. 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 have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. Sheppard: "nothing can save me.
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