It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. Everything was going to hell.
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