Besides themselves there was nobody about but the caretaker.

They were sitting in the House and the room was still warmed in winter by great stoves, but they were not needed now, as the windows were open and the fresh breeze of a grass-scented May morning blew in and tumbled the hair of the two youths of the same blood who sat side by side, close friends of their school days again, but who would soon be facing each other across red fields.
The wind which blew so pleasantly on Harry's forehead reminded him of that other wind which had blown so often upon his face at Charleston.
But it was not heavy and languorous here.

It did not have the lazy perfumes of the breezes that floated up from the warm shores of the Gulf.

It was sharp and penetrating.

It whipped the blood like the touch of frost.