I pity her from the bottom of my heart. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. “Yes. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. She was gone. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. . “I am the most foolish of men.
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