“Pollifax Four The garden was bright with sun and flowers. With a professional eye Mrs. Pollifax inspected the beds of begonias along the paths and then headed for a chaise tongue and sank into it, hoping that she wouldn’t fall asleep. Just to be certain of this she climbed out of the chaise and attempted to elevate it to a sitting position. “You’re pushing all the wrong things,” said a voice behind her, and a young woman in a bikini, body glistening with sun oil, put down her towel and books an...d leaned over the chair. It sprang back and up immediately. Mrs. Pollifax smiled. “How efficient you are!” “I am, yes,” the girl said with a touch of rue in her voice. “Do you think that’s an affliction or a gift?” “A little bit of each, I should think,” hazarded Mrs. Pollifax. “You’re British?” She shook her head. “Belgian.” “I saw you in the dining room, you sat opposite me,” added Mrs. Pollifax by way of introduction. “I’m Mrs. Pollifax.” “How do you do,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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