’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. ” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. . She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. " Mrs.
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