\" She looked at Mike. “No, those are my brother’s dog tags. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. 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. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object. He took the first step toward the stairs, and met the restraining hand of McClintock. Ennison reeled, and almost fell.
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