“I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. “Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. Old Bethlehem, or Bedlam,—every trace of which has been swept away, and the hospital for lunatics removed to Saint George's Field,—was a vast and magnificent structure.
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