The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers.
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