“Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. “What happened to your parents, Lucy? Is it all right if I ask?” Lucy looked at her with a soft gaze. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. Half a minute, Vee. Fas du tout. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain.
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