Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. Everybody seemed greatly concerned about the sincerity of Tolstoy. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. The latch came with a weak click.
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