She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. ” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London.
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