“I’ve gotta go. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. The less said, therefore, on this point the better; because, as nothing is to be gained by it, it would only be trouble thrown away. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. ” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed.
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