There are way-stations—even terminals. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. "A little suffering will do him good. ’ Exasperated, Gerald glared at her. "Your business, Sir?" returned the other, stiffly. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback.
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