“But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time. I did not lay any traps for her.
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