He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. “He has said something of the sort. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. He followed.
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