She pointed suddenly at the portrait. The noise of a bolt came to Alderley’s ears. But she was not there. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. You shall have your reward. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly.
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