” Sir John’s head bent lower and lower. He reached over and took her hand. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks. He saw Enschede, making the empty sea, alone, alone, forever alone. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like! A Frenchie is what you are, and there ain’t no granddaughter Charvill no more. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part.
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