How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. " "Mr. I’ve muddled all this business. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest.
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