‘Come, Hilary. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. This time she was indeed beaten. And she felt that if she went home it was imperative to pay.
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