62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. "Mutual concessions," she added. He declined supper, but took wine. She screamed at Sebastian. “It was not necessary,” Sir John answered stiffly. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. I said I’d do anything. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. Plus he’s a genius.
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