’ ‘Oh, this is becoming nonsensical,’ exclaimed Lucilla. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. To go to Hoddy, to smother him with kisses and embraces in this hour of triumph! To save herself from committing the act—the thought of which was positive hypnotism—she began the native dance.
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