She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. \" They talked until midnight most nights. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers.
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