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“Somewhere in the garden a thrush was singing, the joyous sweetness of its note so much in harmony with her mood that it seemed a part of her happiness. She was content for some moments to listen, not questioning the source of her happiness; but presently she came to full consciousness, and remembered that she had found a friend.” — Georgette Heyer
Somewhere in the garden a thrush was singing, the joyous sweetness of its note so much in harmony with her mood that it seemed a part of her happiness. She was content for some moments to listen, not questioning the source of her happiness; but presently she came to full consciousness, and remembered that she had found a friend.