We, ourselves, are scarcely the same we were twelve years ago. She held out her arms to him and smiled. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. He waved a cordial goodbye.
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