W. B. Maxwell,
Mrs. Thompson: A Novel
“ The sky preserved its clear blue, unspoilt by the faint white stains of cloud; the sea sparkled; and the shadows thrown by the green chairs and the iron railings crept imperceptibly across the grass. Behind the railings the long façades of the white houses stretched westward like a perspective-drawing; and down the broad road a motor fizzed past every moment, changed to a black speck, and vanished. The gaiety and life of the hours was lasting bravely. ”
