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. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. " O'Higgins extracted a cigar from a pocket and inspected it.
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