It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket. ’ ‘Some, of course,’ put in Gerald, ‘have been unable to recover anything. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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