Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. It came to Ann Veronica one night after a long talk with Miss Miniver, as a sudden remarkable thing, as a grotesque, novel aspect, that this slowly elaborating biological scheme had something more than an academic interest for herself. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it.
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