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Dear Diary - What a dreadful turn of events.
It would happen today, wouldn't it?. The day I was fortunate
enough to entertain Lady Horrocks and her charming
daughters (the girls with the uncommonly large craniums)
for high tea.
Everything was going splendidly up until Joyce served the
cucumber sandwiches. Suddenly a parrot appeared on the fence
between ours and Mr. Darbyshire's house and it let forth a
beastly torrent of vulgar language which would have made a
sailor's toes curl.
Joyce herself had a bit of a turn and the look on Lady
Horrocks' face was enough to fell a horse.
Needless to say the afternoon ended there and then. I've a
good mind to march up to Darbyshire's front door, wag my
finger in his face and give him a piece of my mind.
Jarvis the butler reminded me though that Darbyshire's house
midget had excellent connections, and if we wanted a midget
ourselves it would behoove us to leave the matter be.
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