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NOT every woman can collect her dethroned lovers and their wives into one room. Claribel could and did. For things happened at Claribel's parties, and so one swallowed the latest baits and joined all the other poor fish. But having given her party, having collected her bevy of expectant friends, having displayed her three mysterious livelies, it was painfully bad tactics to make them play murder game. All sorts of curious things were liable to happen when one let loose a motley throng like that in a darkened house. So really it was Claribel's fault, and she had only herself to blame when things did happen. Not that that was much consolation to her, poor creature. This is the wittiest " smart " novel of the year. It has the sparkle and exhilaration of a champagne cocktail and should therefore be avoided by those who are spiritual teetotalers and social abstainers. |