She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. "I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. “What can one say?” she exclaimed.
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