She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. He laughed lightly. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest.
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