It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right. E. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly.
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