I knew Anthony's faithful servant loved him like a dog, and it endeared him to me.
Through February our waiting prolonged itself.
The 28th of February was a day of balmy airs.

There was a light mist on the grass, and as you walked it was through a silver web of gossamers.
Gossamers hung on every briarbush and floated about the fields.

The raindrops of last night jewelled them in the rays of the sun.

Dido and I broke whole silver forests on our morning walk to Brosna.
I remember that the blackbird was singing deliciously, yet less poignantly sweet than he should sing at dusk.

There was a mysterious stir and flutter of spring in all the coppices.