I’m not sure if Janine cared. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Of course, at home there would have been questions. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer.
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