“What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. Anna watched her with curious eyes.
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