You’re trespassing again, and I’ve come to arrest you,’ Gerald said promptly. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. 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.
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