Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. CHAPTER XXIX. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked. “See you at school tomorrow. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all.
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