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Page 26
dear boy, even if he never did outgrow the hobbledehoy stage."
"How do you do," Linda said demurely.
"Fine, just fine," Peter muttered. "How do you do?"
"What I'm told to do wellI hope," Linda retorted tartly. Peter stared, and she continued smoothly, "Will you take tea? Sugar? Cream or lemon?"
"Cat lap. Why can't I get a cup of coffee at your house, Aunt Em? Everyone in England drinks coffee now."
"Because I'm not allowed to drink it," Mrs. Bates replied, laughing softly, "and Gertrude is terrified of making it. There's no one here who can brew coffee properly." Then Mrs. Bates opened her eyes wide. "But Linda will know. She's American. All Americans drink coffee. You do, don't you?" she asked, turning to Linda.
"I certainly drink coffee." Linda laughed. "But I don't know how good I am at brewing it. One tends to drink instant when alone and living in hotel rooms."
"American, are you, Miss Hepler?" Peter put in. "I spent most of my life in America."
"I guessed that from your accent, Mr. Tattersalland your choice of expletives."
"Then why are you looking for a job here?"
"Because I ran my capital too fine, and I need a job."
"Phone your parents. They'll send you fare home."

 
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