‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. “Suppose, for example, I go to this dance?” “You won’t. 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. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower.
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