The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. “Those young men startled me at first, because they knew my name. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ” Courtlaw refused brusquely, almost rudely. They have retired. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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