Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. I do not blame you for the act. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him.
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