A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. 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. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. Presently you will see that I am right, and then you shall take your vacation over here, and we will be good comrades again.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 06-06-2024 23:17:44
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