What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. ’ ‘Don’t call me by name,’ she snapped. CHAPTER XXIII. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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