. ’ Gerald moved to the long sofa, dusted it with elaborate care with one of its cushions, and with a gesture invited her to sit down. She pulled away from him, placing her fingers on his lips for a moment. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him.
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