‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox.
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