You don’t know about Mary because you live in Kent. Every moment. "I thought I heard a noise. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband.
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