It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Something he saw there made him feel for a moment ashamed. And Ramage too—about Ramage there would always be that air of avidity, that air of knowledge and inquiry, the mixture of things in his talk that were rather good with things that were rather poor.
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