Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. It reached her only slowly that Ann Veronica was standing to her resolution. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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