“Your mother was a Gypsy. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. ” “Perhaps I don’t. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud.
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