He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. I had a hunch. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. So that the thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all the silent dinner-time that night.
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