And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon.
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