“Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. 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. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. I’m not to study, I’m not to grow.
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