Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. “Don’t think so,” Drummond answered. Mr. She took up a book and threw it down again. And I want you for myself—for my wife.
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