They had become the best of companions, their conversations ranging from comfortable silences to the wittiest of repartée. At every party, they danced together twice—the maximum permitted without scandalizing society. And Daphne knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was falling in love. The irony was exquisite. She had, of course, begun spending so much time in Simon’s company specifically so that she might attract other men. For his part, Simon had begun spending time in her company so that he might avoid marriage. Come to think of it, Daphne thought, sagging against the wall, the irony
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