Explore "Lud-In-The-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Master Ambrose Honeysuckle had finished his midday meal, and was smoking his churchwarden on his daisy-powdered lawn, under the branches of a great, cool, yellowing lime; and beside him sat his stout comfortable wife, Dame Jessamine, placidly fanning herself to sleep, with her pink-tongued mushroom-coloured pug snoring and choking in her lap.
Master Ambrose was ruminating on the consignment he was daily expecting of flowers-in-amber -- a golden eastern wine, for the import of which his house had the monopoly in Dorimare.