And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man. She came into the room. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. “Perhaps you will not object to answering one for me. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Just my room. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. She showered after she heard the door shut and the cars pull out of the driveway. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. My death, probably. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair.
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