The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. ’ ‘That I do not doubt,’ Gerald muttered drily, but added in a tone of intense satisfaction, ‘Then this husband is still in France? Excellent. ” He said. Ennison kicked it away with his foot. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him.
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