Hand in Glove. Ngaio Marsh
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‘Don’t you like them?’ she asked.
‘Like them!’
‘I find myself quite amused by them,’ she said and added indifferently, ‘they do know what they want, at least.’
‘It was perfectly obvious, from the moment they crashed their way in, that they were hell-bent on getting asked for tonight.’
‘I know.’
‘Are you going to pretend not to notice their hints?’
‘Oh,’ she said with a faint chuckle, ‘I don’t think so. I expect I’ll ask them.’
Bimbo said: ‘Of course I never interfere.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘And how wise of you, isn’t it?’ He drew away from her. ‘You don’t usually sulk, either.’
‘You let people impose on you.’
‘Not,’ she said gently, ‘without realizing it,’ and he reddened.
‘That young man,’ he said, ‘is a monster. Did you smell
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