‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer. *** Gerald vaguely noted that his junior leapt to his feet at sight of his former commander, and that Lucilla sat with her mouth at half-cock, dread in her face. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “Only you are the woman I love, and you are in trouble. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre.
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