Not a moment is to be lost. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. I won't keep you long. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her.
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