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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

"
"But how can we get back afterwards?" she ventured, feeling it would
break her heart if she missed it.
He consulted a time-table, found a ten o'clock train and reassured her.
"The moon rises so late that it will be dark by eight, and we'll have
over an hour of it."
Twilight fell, and lights began to show along the shore. The trolleys
roaring out from Nettleton became great luminous serpents coiling in and
out among the trees. The wooden eating-houses at the Lake's edge danced
with lanterns, and the dusk echoed with laughter and shouts and the
clumsy splashing of oars.
Harney and Charity had found a table in the corner of a balcony built
over the Lake, and were patiently awaiting an unattainable chowder.
Close under them the water lapped the piles, agitated by the evolutions
of a little white steamboat trellised with coloured globes which was to
run passengers up and down the Lake. It was already black with them as
it sheered off on its first trip.
Suddenly Charity heard a woman's laugh behind her.


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