” “And that, I suppose,” he said, waving his stick towards Mr. “Shopman. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. She told you —the truth. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. ‘I am done, Gérard. They’re all wonderful cooks.
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