In truth, she liked Gerald also. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. Lucy went downstairs to prepare the hot cocoa that would be the last hot drink of the season, ruefully spiking the liquid with Nytol, just one tablet dissolved in a little warm water. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess. But I do not need that Gérard attend.
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