Wood. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. ” “You want to change my look, yes?” Lucy peered at her. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. Ennison, or any other young man. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. ” “Fine.
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