“Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice.
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