” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Um. Nevertheless, she was no fool, and she knew that they could easily break loose and cause her to fall. Least of all myself. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly.
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