Jenny: On Agriculture

"I've never had pasta." The Guttersnipe frowned. "It sounds like brick-dust." Having finished, she reached for the nearest hound and dragged her hands across its coat to clean them, then picked up the felt from the basket at Domitia's knee and began threading a needle. Having little personal interest in the outlying tales, she wondered how to steer the conversation from MacCool and fish to something a little less barbaric.

"I am going to miss the poppies, when they go," she said presently. "We don't have poppies back home. Gaius will grow any herb under the British sun in his garden, and vegetables and fruits. But no poppies to speak of. He has a great vine of wild rose that blooms as though there were no tomorrow. Our villa has a garden with a willow-tree and a pool, of which we are very fond. We keep some indoor plants in the atrium, but it's been roofed in for as along as I can remember, so we don't grow much indoors."

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