“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Despite her busy work schedule, Sheila had always been a social person, a talker, a joiner of neighborhood groups, a town council member, a PTA worker, and a thrower of neighborhood coffee klatches. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were.
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