It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lady reading a novel at a house party will get absolutely no peace. “There you are, Miss Wilson!” I lower my book, cursing Mr. Barstow’s persistence. To my mortification I notice Lord Ashford watching us, a wry smile on his handsome face. “Barstow,” he says suddenly. “YourContinue reading “If One More Person Asks Me To Play Whist, So Help Me…”
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The Tiny Library 