She chuckled. ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently.
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