Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. At table he carved in a gloomy but resolute manner. " "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. She felt very cool as he opened the door for her, as if she should have chic sunglasses and stiletto heels on, dark red lipstick. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels.
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