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It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. I would that you were my own. ” She said mournfully. She hated the manor. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid.
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