She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. "Sir Cecil is no more. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. ” She said. . “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness.
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