"Stop the garden-party?
My dear Laura, don't be so absurd.

Of course we can't do anything of the kind.

Nobody expects us to.

Don't be so extravagant." "But we can't possibly have a garden-party with a man dead just outside the front gate." That really was extravagant, for the little cottages were in a lane to themselves at the very bottom of a steep rise that led up to the house.
A broad road ran between.

True, they were far too near.