A few minutes later Sir John left the room. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. ” He said.
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