He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest.
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