Whether neighbours or strangers, very few came, and those without enthusiasm.
For a moment they entered, then disappeared and did not reappear.

The lovers were as cold as the season.
Perhaps, too, the low temperature was unfavourable to the informing effluvia, which might well be increased by heat and lessened by cold as is the case with many odours.

My year was lost.

Research is disappointing work when the experimenter is the slave of the return and the caprices of a brief season of the year.
For the third time I began again.

I reared caterpillars; I scoured the country in search of cocoons.