THAT WAS THE CUE?” Your voice sounded humiliatingly high-pitched. “Harry,” said Ianthe, thankfully also a trifle strangled, “when three people start kissing, it is always a cue. A cue to leave.” You said, “I feel unwell.” “Yes. Yes, me too,” she said heatedly, in unexpected accord. “That was disgusting, to say the least. Old people should be shot.”
