The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. 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.
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