“Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. She looked stealthily at Anna. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely.
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