She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released.
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