" "I'm afraid I don't understand. “Let’s go. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. ’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. It was only a few months ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at me. He resolved to judge for himself.
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