’ He regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re burning up. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. We shall have him on his return. You truly are your mother’s, Lucia. We'll get this chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. 253 < 32 > LUCY GOES TO DINNER Mike and Lucy trudged over to the Vorsack’s house. I should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it hadn't been for him. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old.
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