’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. ’ A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. If only we are not divided.
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