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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 mean Miss Charvill no harm. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. I know now that I was mistaken. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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