The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. “Do YOU go across the Park?” “Not usually. ” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. We were only—les autres.
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