Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. Brendon,” he said, “may I rob you of your guest just for the drive home? I have only a few hours in England, and Miss Pellissier is an old friend.
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