The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest.
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