‘I’ll take wine,’ the lady said briefly, turning back instantly to Hilary. Nigel Ennison was he. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. ‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. linked image back linked image back MADEMOISELLE AT ARMS Elizabeth Bailey © 2011 by Elizabeth Bailey All rights reserved.
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