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240 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1927
Lucia sighed. It was a long, intentional sigh. George could visualise her putting her mouth quite close to the receiver to make sure it carried.
[Adele] Dear me, aren’t I poisonous, when I’m going to her house to meet Alf next week! But I don’t feel poisonous; I feel wildly interested: I adore her.
She’s ridiculous!� said Marcia, relapsing a little.
‘No, you mustn’t feel that,� said Adele. ‘You mustn’t laugh at her ever. You must just richly enjoy her.�