She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. ” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. ‘What we have to find out is whether or not the wretched female is in fact Lord Charvill’s granddaughter. “Call me Cathy, John.
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