Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. His nose was large but also fine and angular, tapering to a point at the end like a nobleman’s. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write.
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