But she did not believe he would do that. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. “I will believe you. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. And then she fell into a musing about Capes.
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