"Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. ” “Oh no,” said Ann Veronica; “I have some work to do. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Sweatshirts and sweatpants were in for a while but they’re out now. 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.
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