As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. Seems as she don’t trust soldiers easy. If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile.
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