’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ” “Isn’t it. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. "Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested.
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