“Lucy Albert, sir. Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. This means of communication instantly brought them to the lobby. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Our heads swim with the thought of being together.
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