‘Come along. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “Call me Annabel. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. Melusine started back, blinking. \"So did I. Kneebone.
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