‘French? But what else?’ ‘I do not like Frenchmen,’ Melusine snapped. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Dolls. But through the fault of that pig, who dared to call himself Valade and masquerade in society under her birthright.
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