” Annabel yawned. In one of the little red circles the doctor had traced that abbreviation. . ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. ‘You must have been an exceedingly good pupil. With astonishment, Gerald saw a rheumy film rimming his old commander’s eyes.
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