Answer
|
The
|
studio
|
was
|
filled
|
with
|
the
|
rich
|
odour
|
of
|
roses,
|
and
|
when
|
the
|
light
|
summer
|
|
Answer
|
wind
|
stirred
|
amidst
|
the
|
trees
|
of
|
the
|
garden
|
there
|
came
|
through
|
the
|
door
|
the
|
heavy
|
|
Answer
|
scent
|
of
|
the
|
lilac,
|
or
|
the
|
more
|
delicate
|
perfume
|
of
|
the
|
pink-flowering
|
thorn.
|
From
|
|
Answer
|
the
|
corner
|
of
|
the
|
divan
|
of
|
Persian
|
saddlebags
|
on
|
which
|
he
|
was
|
lying,
|
smoking,
|
|
Answer
|
as
|
was
|
his
|
custom,
|
innumerable
|
cigarettes,
|
Lord
|
Henry
|
Wotton
|
could
|
just
|
catch
|
the
|
gleam
|
|
Answer
|
of
|
the
|
honey-sweet
|
and
|
honey-coloured
|
blossoms
|
of
|
a
|
laburnum,
|
whose
|
tremulous
|
branches
|
seemed
|
hardly
|
|
Answer
|
able
|
to
|
bear
|
the
|
burden
|
of
|
a
|
beauty
|
so
|
flame-like
|
as
|
theirs;
|
and
|
now
|
|