I wonder what it was. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. “Excuse me a moment. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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