When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. " "To be sure he is," acquiesced Blueskin. 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. The thought of beauty became an obsession. " "I should have opened that letter in the beginning," said the doctor. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation.
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