‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. She’s big, about 5’10”. Not about girls that I date. Capes was rather a discovery. She is in Wild's power. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against.
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