"He turned and came up beside her. She was standing beside a tall, overgrown hawthorn heavy with red berries. From its top bough there cascaded a white froth of traveller's joy, delicate as a veil, through which the berries shone like jewels. Looking at her rapt face, he thought: 'I only know it's beautiful; she can feel its loveliness.'"
-P.D. James
The Children of Men
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