’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. He held her eyes. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. Que pasa con ustedes?” He returned in bad Spanish.
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