But Melusine was a little inclined to like this side of the major. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. 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. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home.
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