About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his little charge. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. I had left Paris.
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