They had begun to drop their blossoms on the pavements, making a dust of roses in London streets.

As they went down from Paddington the river-side orchards and gardens were starred with the blossom of pear and plum.
Everywhere the birds were singing jocundly.

The promise of spring a few days earlier had been nobly fulfilled.
The sun shone powerfully as they left the country station and went down a road set with bare hedges on either side.

A week ago there had been frost.

Now there was a grateful odour from the millions and millions of little spear-heads of grass that were pushing above the ground.