She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. “Lucy Albert, sir. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you.
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