Gerald looked at it, then at her face. There is a small yewtree west of the church. ” She said. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked.
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