He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. In truth, she liked Gerald also. “Yes. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. ” “That’s the comfort of you.
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