“Okay. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She stopped eating. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. But it doesn’t alter the situation. Light the lantern.
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