“Mr. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. I can keep you. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. All this was exciting and entertaining.
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