That is the dreadful truth. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going.
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