They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs. " When the doctor entered the bedroom and looked into the faces of the culprits, he laughed brokenly. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. Only a book detective could dope this out. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. To be jeune demoiselle, it is not always convenient. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe.
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