The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. I’ve got too much work. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat.
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