He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. ‘That is true,’ Melusine conceded. That was what she was trying to make him understand. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. ‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. ‘I do not know. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples.
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