He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. I'm sorry. Be seated, and calm yourself. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. I want to get away—to go to London.
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