She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. Now do you see?’ Melusine frowned. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. She had Cathy’s predisposition to overweight and her hips were solid and thick under her jeans. To perdition with them all. ’ Melusine looked resentfully at the pistol. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced.
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