She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. Such a beautiful boy he is, but his intelligence is marginal. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. But what would her aunt think of Teddy’s recent off-hand suggestion of marriage? What would she think of the Widgett conversation? Suppose she was to tell her aunt quietly but firmly about the parasitic males of degraded crustacea. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life.
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