“Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. Wow. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. Mama will be expecting me. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. I shall only pray that I may reward you for all your goodness to me. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels.
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