My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. “I want you so much, Lucy. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek.
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