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Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. I was being stupid. It was Celeste’s idea. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. "Either he or you must return with me," answered Jonathan. "You are angry?" "Very. ’ ‘Bravo,’ applauded Lucilla, clapping her hands. “All right. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception.
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