The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. I didn’t understand before that letter. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide.
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