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I was in the front row, and I fancied she smiled at me. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. ” She shook her head gently. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs.
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