Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. Got the tickets? Yes, but then—you said you borrowed?” “I did, too,” said Ann Veronica.
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