He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. She crooked her finger. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. “Cheveney!” she repeated. That might happen on her birthday—in August. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks.
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