Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. Mr. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. For a time she worried about that compulsory bath and cutaneous diseases. I am going to take you entirely at your word.
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