She did not wince. He got up. This one too she read. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like! A Frenchie is what you are, and there ain’t no granddaughter Charvill no more. Why doesn’t she marry? Plenty of money under her father’s will.
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