Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light.
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