The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night.
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