" "Shall we do so?" whispered Winifred to her father. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain.
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