Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. "It's a whale of a place. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. 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. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all.
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