Went to a book launch tonight. On the way there, ran into Kerry Greenwood, pruning her front hedge (wormwood: you can make absinthe out of wormwood--she has some spare wormwood). She had left
Phryne Fisher in a room full of murderers--or, at least, she thinks they're murderers. She invited me in for a cup of tea, but I felt obliged to make it to
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