Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. ” “I don’t care if it does,” said Ann Veronica. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine.
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