None this end. Her back stiffened. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. The rest was easy. Permit me to make him known to you—Mr. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready.
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