Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. ’ ‘Pah!’ ‘Precisely. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. ‘I find you excessively rude. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window.
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