Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. It isn’t illusions—for us. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. ” She whispered.
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