Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. " "You will never become that, Ruth. They were sitting alone, Lucy. “My Mom was a good lady. ” Her hand hung over the side of her chair nearest to him. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure.
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