. ’ Gerald was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. But it would serve. “I noticed him call her attention to us as we passed down the room,” he answered.
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