” “I am going to ask more than a favour,” she said slowly. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. "Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's James Boyle in the family group.
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