’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. At this moment she was staring ahead; and again came the opportunity to study her. CHAPTER XXVI. "These writer chaps are queer birds. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. It had been a trying day. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones.
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