Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. ” The man made no attempt to recover the revolver. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. He resumed his listening. She refrained. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. ” She glanced at him, and it was suddenly apparent for one instant of illumination that this ring upon her finger was the crowning blunder of her life.
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