’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. . " "Where did you get it?" inquired Thames. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. “Okay. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. Immeasurable disgust possessed her.
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