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"It's all right with me," Linda said. |
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"Okay, but you started it by calling me Mr. Tattersall. You have to call me Peter, too." |
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Linda opened her mouth to agree, remembered that she was only an employee, and glanced at Mrs. Bates. Peter called Gertrude by her first name, but the maidwell, she called him Mr. Peter, not Mr. Tattersall, but somehow the usage indicated no familiarity. Mrs. Bates, however, was nodding approval. |
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"I'll be glad to call you Peter," Linda agreed. Then she got up. "I'll clear the dishes now, if everyone is finished, and then get the car. It will take me about fifteen minutes. Shall I come up again?" |
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"No, don't do that," Peter said. "If you don't find a parking space, you'd better wait in the car." |
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Mrs. Bates's lips thinned and Linda hesitated, but the old woman nodded without argument, and her pique didn't last long. As Linda left the room, Mrs. Bates was already telling Peter with some enthusiasm that she had written to Josephine Paxton about coming out to Corfu a little earlier. "I think I'll ask Linda to see about tickets and all the other arrangements next week. Then . . ." |
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Her voice faded away as Linda trundled the cart into the kitchen. She put on her coat and left by the back door because that was closer to the garage in the mews behind the houses. She was a little nervous as she backed the Rover out into the narrow lane, but the car, although luxurious, |
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