‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. It was the beginning and the end of the transaction. “You have the temperament,” he said. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. " "Figg's an old friend of mine," rejoined Jack; "he was my instructor in the small sword and back sword exercise. But she veiled her feelings. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck.
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