‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in.
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