’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. It is not a dissipated face. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. His lips parted in a rare smile. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless.
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