This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. Melusine made no reply. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. It is in the lower cupboard. Miss Klegg and the youngest girl made a vigorous attack on Miss Garvice, who had said she thought women lost something infinitely precious by mingling in the conflicts of life. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them.
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