The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again.
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