Every shade of colour they were — straw, lemon, orange, brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint.
The windows of the building, curved like ships' windows among generous waves of red brick, changed from lemon to silver under the flight of the quick spring clouds.
In spite of her choked-back tears, Scarlett thrilled to the never-failing magic of her mother's touch, to the faint fragrance of lemon verbena sachet that came from her rustling silk dress.