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. Gerald tried it. ’ He bowed and indicated the open door at the back of the hall. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. He’s nice.
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