This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. You see to what it has brought you. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. "I wanted you to know. It is extraordinary. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging.
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