The trees at the back of the house, very large and tall, hung thick with scarlet and crimson drops, under the dark leaves.

Paul and Edgar were gathering the fruit one evening.

It had been a hot day, and now the clouds were rolling in the sky, dark and warm.

Paul combed high in the tree, above the scarlet roofs of the buildings.

The wind, moaning steadily, made the whole tree rock with a subtle, thrilling motion that stirred the blood.