His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. ’ ‘A very low stratagem, Hilary,’ Gerald said, turning on his captain with mock severity. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. "Let him alone," said Trenchard authoritatively, "I have another question to propose. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No.
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