The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. ’ ‘Leonardo?’ An abrupt sensation of severe irritation attacked Gerald. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout.
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