When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. ‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face.
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