Why would your mother be so impatient?” Lucy speculated. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. 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. He suddenly realized that he could not keep you for ever in this part of the world; so he sends you to your aunt. “I suppose I shall have to write an answer. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature.
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