Mr. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably.
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