He woke up with a start and the alarm clock read 4:46 P. ‘Oh, peste. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. Abruptly, Gerald turned. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. " The attendant did not understand him. “I wish he had,” she said.
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