“Heaven knows!” said Mr. Gerald sighed. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. She peered into the darkness. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now.
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