She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. And then she would find work. “Forgive me,” he said. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry.
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