All through the air the smell of heather, sweet and fragrant, reigns. Far down, miles away, the waves rush inland, glinting and glistening in the sunlight.,
Indeed, no sound disturbs the sacred silence save the crisp rustle of the dead leaves, as they are trodden into the ground.,
"Ah!" says the duchess, feeling puzzled. "Then perhaps they don't dance in Ireland..
This app may share these data types with third
parties
Device or other IDs
This app may collect these data types
Location, Personal info and
9 others
Data is encrypted in transit
You can request that data be deleted