Mr. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. “Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady Lescelles asked. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. . She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly.
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