She put her coffeecup down on Octavia's desk rather sharply: then, seeingOctavia looking at her, hastily adjusted her expression. 'Look,' she said, 'Ithink you've got me a bit wrong. He hadlost weight, he looked drawn and pale; there were moregrey hairs amongst the dark brown. And do you work for your living, OctaviaFleming?'The question was just faintly patronising.
'How's Poppy?''She's a pain. How did he take it?''He was pretty cross. Her father was pleased. Brian Tweedie, samedifference.
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