Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. She examined Michelle’s pale face. "Thanks.
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