Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. ” She spoke like a mistress addressing school-children. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples.
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