’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. His friendship seemed a thing worth having. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. . “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him.
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