"Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. I’ve never met any one like you.
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