The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand table, each better than the next. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. Even then it sent Spurlock spinning backward, to crash against the wall. She was suddenly grave. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. "That is very kind of you, but I am on my way to America.
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