Come. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage.
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