’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. ‘Lay him down on a sofa,’ Melusine said, coming out behind them and moving towards the antechamber.
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