It wasn’t. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard.
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