She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. My will never faltered. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. . Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade.
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