"That I can't say. "Here!" shrieked Lady Trafford. "We went through your belongings. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream.
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