The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ” Ann Veronica said nothing in answer to that. "That we were afraid," replied the other; "but never mind her.
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