He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. 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. ” “Young? I am twenty-four. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.
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