277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. To-night we leave for Marseilles. 3. ” “I’ll frame it—when I get it. . “Hold on, she’s right here.
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