She kept her face downcast. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. I was one of the few. ” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair.
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