Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. ” Lucy answered, disturbed at how rehearsed the apology sounded. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. Mrs. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. I spent my fair share of time in the closet. ‘But then again, possibly not. It’s horrible to think of you!” “You’re an awful brick, Teddy!” she said. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere.
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