Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. The strong potation he had taken, combined with fatigue and anxiety he had previously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light. That would not help her. A black-garbed young lad leapt out and let down the steps. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna.
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