‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. It’s not far from twilight. I know all about it. . ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. 1.
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