Their small talk continued. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. ” Lucy coolly marveled as she studied the girl’s face, belly swollen from pregnancy. ” “No, mine. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. ‘And certainly I wish that Joan will come with us. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem.
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