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. "Friday!" echoed Mrs. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. One gets drawn into things. 1. She had never been so happy to vomit.
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