Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. ’ ‘I should do as she says if I were you, Hilary,’ observed Gerald, noting the fierce determination in the girl’s lovely face. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy.
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