There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. ‘I find you excessively rude, both of you,’ said the lady crossly. But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles.
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