Mr. " "Look here, my boy, that attitude is all damned nonsense. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. We LIKED each other well enough. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are.
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