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It was such a day that all the doors stood open and all thesashes had been up since dawn No one could stay in, everyone was out, nobody would die, everyone would live forever It wasthan farewell suht a rain had co, with the clouds hastened off, each tree in all the yards gave off a separate and private rain if you shook it in passing

Quarterh the house in hand–propelled trajectories, again found that odd thing, a smile, on his mouth

He kicked the kitchen door wide and flung hi, the smile pinned to his thin lips, into the presence of his servants and—

The cake

‘Good , Mr Cal,’ said the cook

The cake stood like a nificent Alp upon the kitchen table To the odors ofwere added the smells of snow upon a white mountain, the aroma of frosted blossoms and candied roses, of petal pink candles and translucent icing There it was, like a distant hill in a dream of the future, the cake a

s white as noon clouds, the cake in the shape of collected years, each candle ready for the lighting and blowing out

‘That,’ he whispered, ‘oh, my God, that will do it! Take it down to the ravine Get’

The housekeeper and the gardener picked up the whitethe door

They carried it out the door and down the porch and across the garden

Who could resist a sweet thing like that, a dreaht Quartermain

‘Watch it!’

The housekeeper slipped on the deet grass

Quartermain shut his eyes

‘No, God, no!’