” He was slightly tipsy. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. That is what my mother used to call me. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. 8.
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