” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. ” “As you will, dear lover. . ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. “If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile.
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