There were many pines, and the heat drew out their fragrance, sharp and strong.

The moss that thatched the red banks was burned, and all the ferns were shrivelling up.
Everywhere butterflies fluttered, lizards basked in the sun, and the stridulation of innumerable insects vexed the ear.

The way was long, and the coach lumbered heavily through the July weather.

"I do not want to talk," sighed Unity.

"My heart is too heavy." "My own is not light," said Cary grimly.