"The plot's out!" cried Jack. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. ‘I’ll make it, miss. And you’d better have her fetch in some food for the missie, an’ all. How will I protect myself if you do not?’ ‘If you will only confide in me, I will be happy to protect you,’ Gerald said cheerfully. Mr. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be.
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