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Go and telephone Atticus now. Arrange to see him this afternoon.
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Mary, go with her.
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This is classic stag party stuff.
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You mean they got him drunk, set him up,
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and booked a photographer to maximise his embarrassment?
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I'm sure he's regretting it bitterly this morning.
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But is "Regretting it" Enough? It wouldn't be for me.
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Of course, there is a man who'd rather this marriage didn't take place
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and his name's Lord Sinderby.
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Would he do something so grubby?
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You'd be surprised what people can sink to, to get their own way.
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They're talking now. He'll meet her in St James's Park at three.