"Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs.
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