“Morning, Mom. Capes kept obstinately stiff, and spoke between his teeth. 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. “So am I. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. He replied, \"Want to go sit down somewhere?\" \"Sure. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. “You’d have to think how to get in between his bones.
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