He is extremely old—forty at least—and he has a belly excessively fat. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. Killed is too kind a word. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten.
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