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She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. ” Mr. ’ Gerald raised his brows. This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood. And there arose too, a background of shouts. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin.
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