Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. “He is very kind, Anna, really, and not half such a prig as he seems. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. Even an unlikely episode such as this could not be ignored.
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