By R. T. Raichev
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Haven't told her yet. I'll tell her now. ' The door opened. 'Miss Darcy! Miss Darcy! ' Antonia rose. 'Good morning, Colonel Haslett,' she greeted her boss brightly. Despite his advanced years Colonel Haslett OBE, DSO dealt with every matter at top speed before passing on to the next item on his always-extensive list. In his wake he left ripples, which tended to develop later into a large backwash of things to do. , you are back. Good, excellent. ' Colonel Haslett was leaning heavily on his silver-topped cane and craning his head forward, half-moon glasses at the tip of his nose, his hand cupping his right ear.
It was clear I had disappointed her. So even a simpatico person like me didn't understand! Well, no one understood. It had been hell. She hadn't had a moment of peace. ) Children like her poor Sonya were an open wound, a millstone around the neck, an albatross, a trial, a torture and a punishment. It was terrible when they grew up for -- didn't I see? - they never grew up. ' Lena waved a dismissive hand. 'Doctors. Don't talk to me about doctors. We've seen everybody. The cream of Harley Street.
Oh, good. ' They had known each other for three years, but somehow there was no question of first name terms ever being established between them. He was holding a cardboard box containing a number of books. 'Brigadier Shipton left them for you, in case they were of interest. It's a mixed bunch. There is a rather unusual recipe book ... ' Antonia at once thought of cannibals but it turned out to be for dishes favoured by the ancient Mongols. Now inside her inner sanctum, she stood beside her desk and looked at the pile of letters that had accumulated in her absence.
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