For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. Was not Gerald altogether on her side? He was, even though he played games like an imbecile, a person tout à fait sympathique as she had discovered at the outset. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. ‘There is no one who could have told him this.
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