We must always move on. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. A species of vertigo seized him.
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