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Nothing but summer

Green willow trees cascade around us like languid waterfalls; beneath the shrubbery our big cat lolls and watches -- his eyes inscrutable green pools -- and now and then a careless breeze comes and cools and lulls us in our summer ease. The privet hedge pervades the soft, warm air; its pungence half persuades and makes us feel nothing but summer should be permitted to be real. The cat arises now -- the king of all he sees; he glides through summer his long hair blowing in the gentle breeze.

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