“I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. . ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. “I just came to you and put myself in your hands.
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