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His number was unlisted and unpublished. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. It must have cut him. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered.
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