" "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. Lucy’s bright tones pursued her. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. . " Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. Wood, in equal trepidation. I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. “Don’t!” she begged. ” She replied. ‘Yes, I know.
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