277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity. Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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