Leaning towards me, the estate agent lowered his voice to a confidential murmur.
'Hugh and Jemima live nearby, you know,' he said. Huh? I had asked whether the area was safe—being often on my own, I am obsessed by safety. What did I care if two of his friends lived close by? Taking me for dim-witted, he slowly repeated: 'H-u-g-h and J-e-m-i-m-a. Round the corner,' with a self-satisfied grin.
Faced once more with blank incomprehension, he valiantly tried again: 'Hugh Grant?'
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