"Have you sent off the note?" inquired Jack. ’ Lucilla gaped. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. We men are like children. It’s one of their worst traits, one of their very worst. I knew it. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope.
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