” “Oh, no, please, no!” She reeled in shock and started 226 to back away from the open crypt. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. So he found her when he came round the corner of the spinney. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. Sebastian, as doctor, was constantly around the sick and the dying.
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