The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. He saw that she was tense. Altogether different. ‘Do not be foolish. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. But I have not done so, and will not.
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