Maggot, dealing him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. She cursed herself for a fool. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting.
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