For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. ” “It isn’t nice getting there. Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic.
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