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. "Where is he?" he cried. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. . It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes.
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