He kissed her cheek. Jests are not for seasons like this. The day comes when you shall regret how you have spoken to me. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles.
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