“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter as the sounds died away. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged. I am a man—of a sort of experience.
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