” “Never better in my life,” Anna declared briskly. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Lucy's ears were singing.
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