Lucy acted the part of savoring the end of the meal, but it was difficult. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. She wanted to live. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room. “There is no doubt whatever about that.
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