He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica.
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