" After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. My parents would have given me the money, so that is exactly why I didn’t ask them. 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. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
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