In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. 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. “All right, Dunster,” he said. Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at. Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man demanded his business.
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