Basil! I mean, Evie! I mean, Michael! I mean, Vaughn! Ooh, I can't even remember anyone's name today, I'm that ill. I shouldn't have gone to Dagfields yesterday, but they can't cope without me. And it was a long day, I tell you. I nearly crashed into the roundabout on the way back, I was that shattered.
I should be at the Peter Wilson auction rooms today, bidding on an assorted box of Edwardian kitchenalia, but I've caught another virus. I was up all night with a temperature and now my kidneys are murder. I should go to the GP, but I can't be bothered. They'll only tell me to stop smoking, as if that's got anything to do with my kidneys. And besides, I think it's genetic whether smoking kills you or not. I'm just not the type to die of smoking, I can tell.
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