Evelyn waugh the loved one summary5/19/2023 ![]() ![]() ![]() Never again, perhaps, would he be free to roam these walks. He did not much care for music and this was his last evening at Mountjoy. ![]() Miles, sauntering among the sleeping flowers, was suffused with melancholy. No gold fin winked in the porphyry font and any peacock which seemed to be milkily drooping in the moon shadows was indeed a ghost, for the whole flock of them had been found mysteriously and rudely slaughtered a day or two ago in the first disturbing flush of this sudden summer. In the basin the folded lilies had left a brooding sweetness over the water. Strains of a string quartet floated out from the drawing-room windows and were lost amid the splash and murmur of the gardens. This was a rich, old-fashioned Tennysonian night. ![]() The weather varied from day to day and from county to county as it had done of old, most anomalously. The State Meteorological Institute had so far produced only an unseasonable fall of snow and two little thunderbolts no larger than apricots. DESPITE their promises at the last Election, the politicians had not yet changed the climate. ![]()
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