’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. You. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities.
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