’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. “So, since when does a grown man have to sneak behind the Laundromat to smoke a cigarette?” She asked 115 him. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard.
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