’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. I consented. ” She murmured. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. ‘If Major Alderley should happen to call, you may admit him also. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. Nevertheless, Ann Veronica found it a difficult matter not to think of these things.
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