" "You flatter me," smiled Sir James. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. “So you still think of me as husband, even though we have long since tired of each other. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. Bête, she told herself fiercely. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. Mild, you know, and boon. ” “I suppose I must have thought so. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery.
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