For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. Monsieur is going inside perhaps?” But Sir John’s eyes were still riveted upon the poster, and his heart was beating with unaccustomed force. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. This charming episode was repeated three times. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. "I forgot.
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