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“Let me know the truth. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Of course Nicholas was bound to give her a French name. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. \" Lucy felt her face go hot, but at the same time raised her eyebrows, relaying a tacit acknowledgement of her own distressed appearance.
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