At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning.
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