‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. He had not to wait long. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried.
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