The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. “I’ll go. ” Lucy said. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill.
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