She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. A thousand eager assistants pressed behind him. I know why. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. . This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. She knew now that he never would. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house.
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