” That phrase about dragging the truth through swamps of nonsense she remembered from Capes. He listened to the thunder of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast; and, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw, he pushed with all his force against the stone. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. The carte de jour was before Monsieur. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position.
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