’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. "Yes, your son, Madam. The clever hostess having let fall that several distinguished guests from France would be present, the world had flocked to her doors to catch, like the gossip-hungry vultures they were, a glimpse of them. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. All she needed to do was to have a body.
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