’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. She could think of nothing more to say. “I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. ‘Eh bien, Eugénie.
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