‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. “I expected you this morning,” he said. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. ” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender.
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