‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. The change will come to-day.
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