‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. “Yes.
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