“Have you told anybody else?” Lucy asked. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. If you can do any good with him, it's more than we can. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth.
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