I'll marry you twelve little months from now--please!" "A thousand things may happen--" "They won't--they won't.

Don't you love Unity Dandridge?
Then let her live a little longer!" "Kiss me--" Unity did as she was bid.

The sunlight left the hollow, but stayed bright upon the hills beyond.

It was August, but in a treetop somewhere a solitary bird was singing.

Nearer the earth the crickets and cicadas began their evening concert, a shrill drumming in the warm, still air.
There was a scent of dry grass, a feeling of summer at its full.