“With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for him where he is. She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. He had looked at it before without comprehension. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently.
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