She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. “There was a keg, hash, LSD, pot, you know, the usual. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. ’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. He knew it was unnerving, he did it to everyone, even his own kin. . They would arrest him for the French spy they had thought her at first. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory.
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