He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. " "I am one-and-twenty," observed Jack. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again.
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