The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question. "Enough's as good as a feast. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. “I wish he had,” she said.
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