Lucy knocked again. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. Can I give him any message for you?” “Thank you,” Anna answered. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. ” He digested her statement as part threat and part promise. “That cannot happen!” She replied, feeling her world start to disintegrate underneath her feet. Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. ‘Come, cry a truce.
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