Jonathan laughed scornfully. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. Thank him, not me, man. Wild here presently. Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it.
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