’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. ” She admonished. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. "I knew it. She was alone with a deadly enemy.
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