When he returned, it was always the same. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. ‘You are not at all stupid. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. ’ She struggled. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. It was painted in the early seventeenth century by a minor artist named DuPre. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. The first set of occupations seemed to her to be altogether too domestic and restricted; for the latter she was dreadfully handicapped by her want of experience.
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