The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. 1.
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