But first, we’ve got to secure the convent. ” Lucy replied, and brushed past him on the stair. I’ve—dreads. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. CHAPTER XXI. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs.
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