He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. On some insane score she fancied she had to state her case in verse. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. S.
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