To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. ’ There was a pause. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago.
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