She's my mealticket. For it cannot be that this Jarvis will leave the house to my father. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth.
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