There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. Perhaps I ought to have let you order the dinner, but I think I got through it pretty well. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary. ’ ‘I have no game. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere.
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