Ha! Good luck, lady!” Gustav laughed and tapped his thick index finger against his temple. “No one knows what goes on inside this head. Not even me.
—Christopher Healy
I am an urchin, standing in the cold, elbowed aside by the glossy rich visitors in their fur coats and ostentatious jewellery, being fussed into the hotel by pompous-looking doormen.’No problem. I’d better get home,...
—Primula Bond
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