Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. “I throw it out in passing,” he said. “Bother it all!” she swore. ” “I ought to have—all the same. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Sir John hesitated. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute.
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