Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. “Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. My sister made me over, you know. She reloaded. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit.
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