I had no idea you were not the happiest girl. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. She proffered her neck towards him. Burn your palette and your easel. You won't have him long.
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