‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. ” “Relaxation, perhaps. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand.
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