Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. Only I’m so incensed with that crazy fool Gerald that—oh, well, never mind. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. He had mentioned teaching her how to read Latin one day when she had wandered into the library.
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