\"Thanks, Mike. ” Lucy spat. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. A bad man, in fact. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. The terror faded from her eyes. ’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. But the sheer tenacity of the girl defeated him.
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