” “You are jealous,” she declared contemptuously. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. . ” “They’re back together again?” Lucy felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. She flailed against the doctor’s grip but after what seemed an eternity of kicking and flailing, amazingly, he had not seemed weakened in the slightest by her resistance. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. ‘Don’t tell me. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. You are you.
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