Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Giles's round-house on my own responsibility. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things.
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